


Storm Water

by quintic



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:00:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4191321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quintic/pseuds/quintic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They tell ghost stories to frighten each other, about the Dag and her garden pulled forth from the sour earth like endless scarves out of a hat. How she must be a witch, to get those trees to grow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm Water

The first time it storms in the Citadel, the Dag rushes out into the rain in wonder and stands barefoot in the sludge as the world falls down around her. To stand right in the middle of the eye of it is insane. It whips her hair back and across her cheeks. Her skin is chapped red from the cold. The wind pries its freezing fingernails into the crook between her shoulder and her neck and makes her shudder violently; The Dag stands, and sways, and feels _alive_.

She staggers inside in her wet things to find a container, shaking like a leaf, eyes wide and wild. Cheedo tries to pull her back from the mouth of the cave with both hands wrapped urgently around her shoulders, but the Dag tears away, goes back to place her bowl at the lip of the stone. She sits cross legged on the floor there, and watches the rain water run into it for hours, tracing her fingers through the wet sand underneath her. The force of the storm makes the ground shudder. If she concentrates on it hard enough she can ignore Warlord Junior's stupid kicks against the front of her stomach.

Furiosa wants the water from her the next day. They're currently clawing their way through a dry spell in the Citadel; the weather has been wild, unpredictable, sweaty and humid during the day, dry and cold at night. Any water collected last night will be added to the cisterns. Every little bit helps.

The Dag hides her bowl, later pretends it spilled during the commotion caused by the storm. Cheedo finds her dabbing the water across the rock outside of their room with two fingers, a determined expression on her face. She puts a hand on the Dag’s shoulder, palm pressed firm against her skin.

“It’s for protection,” the Dag says eventually, her fingers dipping back in the bowl of secret storm water.   
“Furiosa won’t like you wasting it.”  
“What she doesn’t know won’t harm her.”

Cheedo considers this and reaches to dip her fingers in to help, but the Dag lifts the bowl out of reach with a click of her tongue. Ignoring Cheedo’s wordless whine of protest, she wets her thumb and presses it against her friend's forehead. Cheedo hums, and doesn’t move.

She's heard the pups whispering when they think nobody is listening.

They tell ghost stories to frighten each other, about the Dag and her garden pulled forth from the sour earth like endless scarves out of a hat. How she must be a witch, to get those trees to grow. The cranky crone of the Citadel, her seams bursting at the ends with wicked magic!  _Look at her stomach! See how it swells. She is chrome on the inside and has a_   _b_ _elly full of shiny fire. When she's angry, smoke comes out of her nostrils!_   _She'll curse you, if you look at her twice!_ _  
_

“Storms,” the Dag explains (her eyes are shut, and she’s rocking back and forth very gently on her heels), “Are _devastating_. They destroy everything in their path, so the green can follow quickly after to salvage from the ruins.”

Cheedo shivers and closes her eyes, too. The Dag trails her thumb gentle down the bridge of her nose and over her mouth, pressing down on Cheedo's lower lip. She pauses for a moment. Her spell is a whisper.

“Life and death spin in cycles eternal, and storms are a part of that, too. You are going to be a storm, beautiful, powerful, and _unforgiving_. _Nobody_ will touch you without your permission, ever again. With the destruction of the old, you bring the new. Rebirth. Rebuild. _Repair_.”

Cheedo breathes out shakily, and opens her eyes, just as the Dag leans in to kiss the tears off her cheeks.


End file.
